


Alcohol

by GeekLibrarian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A bit of swearing, F/M, a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekLibrarian/pseuds/GeekLibrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am trully sorry for this.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> I am trully sorry for this.

**Words:**  1183  
**Castiel x Reader**  
**Warnings:**  tons of fluff, swearing

 **A/N:**  Don’t expect much, I just needed a bit of Cas fluff xD

* * *

Before even opening your eyes you felt his arm around your waist and his breath in your neck, and everything that had happened the night before came rushing into your mind like a VHS playing in fast-forward.

You knew he was awake, he always was. You knew he probably already knew  _you_  were awake, because that’s something angels just do, hear your breathing, your heart beats, sense the changes in posture and blood flood and all that crap. But you didn’t wanted to open your eyes still, because you didn’t know what was going to happen or what kind of conversation you two would have.

The day before had been awful, even the weather had agreed and the news announced hurricane alert. It never got that bad, but it was close. It was night in daytime and the streets were deserted, the only three idiots going around were you and the Winchesters, trying to catch a ghost that appeared every six months in the same spot, dragging people into an old farm and burying them alive. Of course, the ghost didn’t mind there was a red alert on weather,  _he_  wouldn’t fly away.

So there you were, in the middle of the storm, raging wind in your ears, wet to the bones, cold to the marrow, holding a salt gun and shooting repeatedly to the freaking mountain that the spirit was, the spirit who wouldn’t stop walking towards you, ropes in hand and horrid smile in his raw face.

“SAM! DEAN!” you had shouted into the wind, but they hadn’t heard, the wind was too loud, the rain was too noisy.

The salt on the floor was washing away because of the little rivers that were forming, breaking the circle and only real protection you had left. Hurriedly you had looked for another bag but they were all empty. And the ghost was still approaching menacingly.

Soon enough the cartridges were gone and you had been trapped against a cold and wet floor, seconds away from being knocked, tied, and buried. The only hope was that your friends could find the remains of the body before, but it hadn’t looked like something that would happen. So you fell on your knees, calling and looking for some iron you could use against the mole that was approaching you, but there was nothing.

“SAM! DEAN! Oh god, someone!”

So he appeared. Castiel. He had heard your pleading from far away, and left everything to came rescue you. Holding your hand rapidly he zapped you out of there and into the room the brothers were.

“Next time you bring her into a case like this, make sure she doesn’t almost get killed, you idiots.” And then he had left again, leaving you three puzzled.

“God, Y/N, are you okay?!” Dean shouted as he saw you were shaking, holding you by the shoulders.

“That damn thing almost got to me you moron!” you shouted as you punched him hard in the arm.

But all the relief of being alive had gone away as the ghost had appeared again in the room. Luckily, that time you were not alone and with no weapons, you had back up and Sam was already burning the last piece of bone and the thing disappeared into thin air, wrapped up in flames and screaming.

Back in the motel the wind was still howling, the rain was still pouring and you were still shaking. They’d let you take the first bath with all the hot water (that wasn’t much, honestly) and by the time the storm had past you’d all decided to go out for drinks, to warm up the body, and ease the spirit.

It was in the bar where you had been encountered again with Cas.

“It’s good to see you managed not to get yourselves killed.” He’d said appearing suddenly next to you.

“FUCK IT CAS!” Dean shouted spitting half the shot he was having. “How many times, man, how many fucking times?”

You started laughing, finally letting the tension of the day melt into something warmer and lighter, and Dean’s face changed as he saw you relax.

And from that point on, everything started to blur. You remembered a discussion, something between Cas and the boys and about you, and lots and lots of alcohol until you were all drunk, including Cas, who then decided you were all too screwed up to drive and zapped you back to the bunker, where Dean started another rant because he had left the Impala eight hundred miles away and in the middle of nowhere, so then Castiel zapped him back to the motel and it took him an awful long time to get back because he went back to the bar to look for them forgetting they had already left.

Meanwhile you and Sam got back to drinking in the library until he’d fall asleep. And then Cas had come back and…

Well, there you were. With his hand in your waist and his breath in your neck. And your cheeks burning like a hundred degrees.

“Y/N?” his voice was soft and you melted when you heard him pronounce your name.

“Yeah?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Well… I’ve been better. But I’ve been worse too.” You said honestly, your eyes still shut, blushing even more if that was possible.

“Good.” He said. And for a moment there was complete silence.

You could feel the blood pumping in your head, your heart beating fast. You could feel every inch of his arm around you, the warm of his body, the way the blankets wouldn’t just fall into the mattress behind you but go up around him too, the way the mattress sank under his weight, his breathing in your neck.

“Cas?” you said in a whisper.

“Yes?”

“About last night…” His arm left you and you suddenly felt cold and miserable, the bed shook when he sat up.

“I won’t ever mention it again if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, and started to move away further from you, so you turned around and grabbed him by the arm.

“No. That’s not what I want.” You said, locking your eyes in his, your fingers wrapped tight in this forearm. “I’m glad it happened. I’m… I’m glad you like me.”

“I’m glad it happened too.” He said with an awkward smile, and you thought that his eyes were even bluer and brighter than a second ago.

You pat the spot besides you on the bed and he went back to rest there, grabbing you again and placing a soft kiss in your lips.

You were pulling him closer to you in a meaningful way when the phone rang.

“Hullo?” you muttered.

“Please tell me you’re not in the bunker as I recall.” Dean growled on the other line.


End file.
